I stood before her, still breathing heavily after the fight, while she sat in the snow, leaning awkwardly on her elbows. Her face was calm, but her eyes betrayed her tension. She looked straight at me-not defiantly, not pleadingly.
Rather… as if ready to hear any answer.
"Are you going to leave me?" she asked.
No pressure.
No reproach.
Seriously. Too grown-up for a sixteen-year-old girl? Hah, aren't I the same age? Stopping myself from thinking about nonsense, I looked at her.
I was silent for a few seconds. Longer than was comfortable. I looked at her leg-the unnatural angle, the swelling, the skin turning dark so quickly. A bad fracture. Here, in this world, that's almost a death sentence.
"Yes," I finally said.
She tensed slightly.
"It would make sense to leave you here to die."
Scarlett exhaled slowly. She didn't look away. She didn't turn her head.
"But," I continued, "I won't do it."
She blinked. Once. Then she smiled quietly.
"Idiot."
"Maybe," I shrugged.
I turned and walked to the edge of the clearing, where branches were still lying-the very ones I'd chopped down by the living grove. The tree was strange: dense, dark, as if saturated with something foreign. But sturdy
I pulled a rope out of my backpack. Simple. Reliable. Thanks to the academy-at least they taught me something.
The sled turned out rough. No finesse. Two long runners, crossbars, all tied together with knots that made my fingers ache. But when I gave the structure a tug-it held.
"It's time to take care of your leg."
Scarlett clenched her teeth but didn't scream as I realigned her limb. Sweat beaded on her temples, her breathing became ragged, but she held on. I applied a splint made of straight branches, securing it tightly with cloth and rope.
"Don't move," I said. "If we're lucky, it won't get any worse."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered.
I helped her lie down in the sled, wrapped her up in everything I could find, and grabbed the rope.
Scarlett looked up at me.
"Do you realize you're doing the most idiotic thing possible?" she said.
I nodded.
"I do."
"You'll slow down. You'll become vulnerable. If something else shows up here… you'll die with me."
I pulled on the sled, testing its weight.
"I know. Are you begging me to leave you to die?" I said, losing my patience.
She was silent for a long time, then added quietly:
"Then why?"
Annoyed, I looked ahead-at the road leading upward, toward the mountain, disappearing into the gray sky.
"Because I don't want to survive if it means I have to stop being human."
Scarlett said nothing.
I took the first step. Then the second. The sled creaked across the snow.
And we continued our climb up the mountain, no longer alone.
I kept going. The sled creaked and dragged behind me, the weight straining my shoulders and pulling every muscle in my legs to the limit. Hour after hour, step by step, fatigue piled up like snow covering the trail. My lungs burned, my knees ached, and the hands gripping the rope felt like someone else's.
Scarlett was silent. I caught her gaze out of the corner of my eye-she didn't ask for anything, didn't complain, just trembled quietly on her sled, as if she felt every effort of mine just as strongly as I did.
Whatever stood in for the sun here began to fade. The light dimmed, blurring the silhouettes of the mountains and trees, turning the world into a pale, cold canvas.
We hadn't found a single shelter. No caves, no ruins, not even a hint of a safe place. Every stop was a luxury I couldn't afford. The onset of darkness here meant one thing: our chances of survival were dwindling. For me-extremely low. For Scarlett-certain death.
I didn't say a word. Every breath echoed in my ears, every step was a struggle. But to stop meant giving up. And I had no intention of giving up.
All I could do was hope for luck. That somewhere ahead there would be shelter, that the snow wouldn't hide a cliff, that fate wouldn't decide to separate us here, on this cold and alien slope.
I took another step. Then another. The sled creaked, but held firm. The snow crunched beneath my feet, blending with the rhythm of my own breathing. We moved forward-slowly, painfully, almost without hope, but we kept moving.
And in that silence, amid the fading light, I wondered for the first time: maybe survival is just a chain of steps that can't be stopped until you find something that will save you for at least one night. And isn't that rather poetic?
We crawled up the slope like flies struggling to survive in the cold void. My legs ached unbearably, my muscles refused to obey, but I kept pulling the sled. Scarlett was almost motionless; her heavy breathing broke the silence, but her eyes continued to follow my every move.
Darkness finally engulfed everything around us. And then we felt it-a presence. A multitude of alien, eerie forms, lurking in the shadows, surrounded us. We heard their whispers, the crunch of snow, and faint creaks.
Every step took an incredible effort. I was torn by the question: was it time to leave her behind and try to save myself? But Scarlett's trusting gaze quashed that thought instantly. I gritted my teeth and pulled the sled forward, despite the pain and fear.
Some of the creatures had a presence that made your legs turn to stone, your breath catch in your chest, and your heart tear apart. They were approaching. Crawling, gliding, twisting the darkness around them. We were literally scrambling up the mountain, as if climbing a stairway to hell.
And then, in the slope's wall, I saw a faint light. Small, dim, but… light. My heart leapt. It was a door-small, black, almost blending into the rock. We reached it only when darkness had finally swallowed the world, and the presence around us had become unbearable.
The door was locked. I studied it in the darkness, my hands trembling, my breath coming in gasps like a dying animal. Then I noticed the keyhole. Just to the right of it was a strange device. It seemed to be begging for my hand to be placed inside it. There was no other way out.
Through the pain, exhaustion, and fear, I slipped my left hand into the device. I felt my pinky and ring fingers vanish. They weren't cut off or ground down-they simply vanished as if they had never been there-but their disappearance did not relieve my pain.
A scream caught in my throat. But in that very second, the voice that had earlier informed me of the wolf's killing whispered to me in a soft murmur.
You have bestowed a new ephitet.
I didn't have time to figure out what that meant; with no other choice, I tried to open the door. When I touched it with my hand, which was still dripping with blood, it glowed faintly blue, and I sensed that it was ready to open.
I opened the door and barely managed to push the sled inside. Scarlett slipped quietly into the shelter. I closed the door, and instantly something enormous slammed into it with incredible force. The door shook, the steel screeched, but it held.
We were gasping for breath, exhausted and wounded, sitting in the dark cubbyhole. My heart was pounding like crazy. But we were inside. For now, at least.
Scarlett looked at me, her white eyes reflecting a mixture of fear, surprise, and… trust. I clenched my fists, feeling the emptiness where my fingers used to be, and said quietly:
"We made it… for now."
I took a step forward-and only then did I feel it.
Pain.
At first, a faint throbbing. Then-a sharp jolt, as if a red-hot wedge had been driven straight into my wrist. I looked at my left hand.
Blood. A lot of blood.
And emptiness where two fingers used to be.
The world shrank to a pulsing red blur before my eyes. My knees buckled. I braced my shoulder against the wall, but it didn't help-the pain washed over me in a wave so thick it took my breath away.
"Oscar!" Scarlett tried to get up, but immediately hissed in pain from her own leg.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The sound got stuck in my throat, turning into a rasp. My heart was beating too fast, blood gushing through my fingers.
Scarlett acted faster than I expected.
"Sit down! Right now!"
I sank to the floor. She clenched her teeth and literally crawled over to me. There was no panic in her movements-only focus.
"Bandages. In the backpack. Quickly."
I nodded, barely able to think straight. She reached for the backpack herself, pulled out the bandages, and tore the fabric with her teeth.
"Hold your arm up. Look at me, don't close your eyes!"
I tried to breathe. Every breath felt like fire in my palm.
Scarlett tied a tourniquet around my wrist, then carefully cleaned the stumps. I howled-I really did howl-when she began cauterizing the edges of the wound with the red-hot metal tip of a knife, heated by a blowtorch she'd pulled from her bag.
The smell of burnt flesh hit my nose.
"Hold on!" she whispered through clenched teeth. "Hold on, you idiot… you have no right to pass out now."
Gradually, the bleeding stopped. The pain didn't go away, but it became sharp and localized-as if it could be kept under control.
I exhaled heavily.
"Thank you…"
She leaned back, pale, her hair damp with sweat.
"We're even."
Something was sliding and rustling behind the wall, pressing against the door with all its might. But inside, behind this small black door, we were alive. For now.
The door shook for a few more seconds, then the pounding from outside subsided. Only a dull scraping against metal reminded us that there was still something alive on the other side… and very hungry.
Inside, it was unexpectedly warm.
The walls were lined with dark stone, smooth and polished by time. No dampness, no frost. Thin glowing veins stretched along the ceiling-like veins in marble. They emitted an even white light, too bright for torches, too pure for fire.
"This…" Scarlett looked around slowly. "This doesn't look like a shelter built in a hurry."
The room resembled a small mountain cabin, only carved directly into the rock. Against the wall stood two narrow beds with thick mattresses covered in gray cloth. A low table, sturdy and massive, as if hewn from a single piece of wood. A cupboard with neatly arranged dishes. In the corner-a stone hearth with a black grate. There was no firewood inside, but the place itself looked well-used.
And all of it was pristine. Untouched.
Too cozy for the world outside.
For a while, we just sat in silence, listening to our own breathing.
Then I stood up.
"What are you doing?" she asked wearily.
"If we're stuck here, you need to walk."
In the corner lay more branches-the ones I hadn't used for the sled. The wood from the living grove was dense, almost like metal, but it yielded to the knife.
Working with one hand turned out to be… humiliatingly difficult.
Every movement was met with pain. The knots didn't turn out very neat. I had to hold the rope in place with my teeth, my knee, my elbow. I cursed under my breath, but kept going.
An hour later, something resembling crutches lay on the floor-rough, but sturdy. I reinforced the lower ends with extra layers of wood so they wouldn't slip.
"Try it," I said.
Scarlett, leaning on me, stood up carefully. At first she staggered. Then she took a step.
"They hold…" she whispered in surprise.
"You won't get far, but you'll be able to move."
She nodded.
We looked around.
The light was still shining brightly. No source. No shadows. No fire, no crystals-just those strange veins in the stone.
"It doesn't go out," Scarlett said quietly. "Even when the door is closed."
I walked over to the wall and touched the glowing line.
It was warm. It vibrated ever so slightly.
"Is this magic?" I muttered.
"Does that scare you?"
"Anything that works without an explanation scares me."
We decided to explore the entire place.
Besides the main room, there turned out to be three more.
The first was something like a storage room: empty shelves, metal boxes, but no food or water.
The second was a small bedroom with a single wide bed and a solid door.
The third…
The third was locked.
The door was different from the others-smooth, black, with no handle. In the center was a small indentation.
Perfectly round.
Shaped like a pearl.
Scarlett and I exchanged glances.
I slowly reached into my pocket.
That very pearl. Smooth, dark, with a barely perceptible inner glow. I had taken it from the corpse of the living grove, not quite understanding why.
Now I guess I understand…
"If this is a trap…" Scarlett began.
"I think I've already paid enough." Saying this, I awkwardly waved my hand, missing two fingers.
She just rolled her eyes.
I inserted the pearl into the slot.
Click.
The door slid silently into the wall.
Inside was a small, unfurnished room. Just a single stand in the center.
And on it-a sword.
Long. Black. The blade was matte, as if it absorbed light. No decorations, no unnecessary frills. The guard curved in a smooth arc, the hilt wrapped in dark leather.
It looked… right.
I stepped forward.
"Careful," whispered Scarlett.
I touched the hilt.
In that instant, the sword flared to life.
Black sparks raced along the blade, and the light in the room flickered. It was as if I'd been struck by an electric current-not in my body, but in my very core.
The sword dissolved into a stream of darkness and was drawn into my chest.
I doubled over, gasping for air.
And then, inscriptions flashed before my eyes.
Those very ones.
The ones I saw when I first found myself in this world.
Relic-class artifact obtained
I closed my eyes.
I thought about them.
The inscriptions unfolded again.
A familiar interface appeared before me-translucent, suspended in the void of consciousness.
Arsenal of the Soul.
And there… amidst the void… a new element appeared.
"NoctisTerror"
Class: Relic
Special Ability: Deals more damage at night.
Description: When the sun fades and the world bows its head to the night, it awakens. Its blade whispers with the voices of shadows, and every spark of light upon it is a captured star, fading in cold steel. In daylight, it is merely a weapon… but with the onset of darkness, it becomes a death sentence.
This sword was forged not by fire, but by the absence of light-in the abyss where fear takes shape. Where neither a ray of light nor a glimmer of hope dares to tread, its blade has absorbed the very essence of the night.
My heart was racing, but not from pain anymore.
I thought about the sword.
I simply imagined its weight in my hand.
And it appeared.
The black blade materialized out of thin air, settling gently into my palm. Light. Perfectly balanced. A faint spark ran along its surface.
Scarlett stared at me with wide eyes.
"You… you just…"
I exhaled slowly.
"Yes, I think so."
The sword hummed softly, as if it were alive.
And behind the door, something scraped against metal again.